Rabid
by EscagirlUK
Disclaimer: I totally do not own Teen Wolf or anything to do with it. Not even the dvd's. *sad face*
Allison knocked on the door frame to her dad's office, sidling around the wood to peer past the open door.
"Dad, could we talk? I have some questions - about something you said a while ago."
"Sure," said Chris, surprise on his face. Allison felt a twinge of guilt; she hadn't been spending as much time with him since her mom died. She closed the door behind her and sat down.
"Dad, way back when Aunt Kate came to visit, you said something during dinner. About how rabid dogs should be killed, before they could hurt anybody."
"Yes. What does-." Allison cut her dad off.
"That means anything that's rabid, right?"
"Of course."
"Okay. That... That's good. Okay. Thanks, Dad." She could tell her dad was confused by the questions. "I have some homework to do. But, dad, thanks. I just wanted a little bit of clarification."
She'd noticed the changes. That odd tone he sometimes got in his voice, the careful way he would sometime speak, the look he would get in his eyes, the way he moved and held himself. Allison had taken everything she'd been observing, and compiled it together. She'd combed through it, with a detached manner that she often struggled to hold.
But she had to, she was the Argent Matriarch now. She had to be objective and emotionless about these things. So she reviewed, and she plotted, and she planned.
Which is how she came to be laying on the roof of her high school, a heavy duty collapsible crossbow with a long-range sight piece attached laying in her arms.
Within her sight sat the lacrosse field. It was brimming with people, the stands full of spectators for both the home and the away teams. The field itself crowded with players running back and forth, sometimes colliding together.
Allison looked through the sight, focussing it on her target. She took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. The bolt was launched from the crossbow, speeding towards it target and finding it's mark. She quickly took the crossbow apart and stowed the pieces in her bag, shouldering it and walking to the door to the stairs down.
Screams soon broke out from the teaming field as Gerard Argent slowly slid to the ground, a crossbow bolt embedded through his heart from the back.
Rabid dogs needed to be put down, her father had said.
It had become rapidly clear upon the death of her mother that the most rabid dog around was her own grandfather.
She was no-one's plaything, to be emotionally jerked around and manipulated.
I just wanted to write a fic where Allison wasn't the susceptible dumbass she was in the show.